An Eyrical Tale
by susanna aneira
Summary: Hermione can study under Severus for her potions mastery under one condition: she must spend a year with him at his manor, complete with prejudiced pureblood neighbors who try to make her life miserable. Loosely based on Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte.
1. To Each Their Own Flavour

The title comes from Eyre, as in Jane Eyre, which this fanfic is loosely based on. Understand, that when I say LOOSELY based, I will NOT be keeping exactly to the book or even keeping the exact plot line, just understand that some things that Hermione says, are similar to what Jane says, and some things that Severus Snape says are similar to what Edward Rochester says. By no means do you have had to read Jane Eyre before reading this.

Disclaimer: I am neither J.K.Rowling nor Charlotte Bronte, but the present story is what would happen if both authors decided to get together and combine their respective works, in much less eloquent language, and disregarding plot lines of either of their books.

**An Eyrical Tale**

**Chapter 1: To Each Their Own Flavour**

Hermione bit back another growl of frustration as she read the letter in her hands, some of which prompted her to mumble another "I should have known" under her breath.

_Miss Granger,_

_Although I am pleased that you have chosen to try for your mastery in the area of potions, it is an inconvenience to my own schedule to take up an apprentice at this time. I wish you the best of luck in your search for a mentor._

_Regretfully,_

_Adelaide Lavéra_

_Maîtresse De Breuvages Magiques_

_Université de Mersailles, France_

There was one more person left in all of Europe with a masters in potions, but he was the last resort; a tolerable man, but certainly not a wizard one would want to spend every waking minute with as an apprentice. Hermione finally sighed, crumpled the letter, and walked to the fireplace in her flat, picking up a well-decorated flowerpot on the way.

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**3 months earlier…**

"You have now completed your three years of studies at Ilmarinen College of Magics," the old witch said. She had pure silver hair, with thick, rounded spectacles and carried a short staff with blue, green, and gold markings. It was rumoured that she had gotten it as a gift when she was made an honourary member of the Abeni tribe during her journeys in Africa during her forties. Halyna Aerin smiled at the young witch before her- one of those elderly people's smiles that seem to see beyond ages- and laughed a bit. "I assume that you will be furthering your studies by attempting a mastery, but what I do not know is what area it will be in." Headmistress Aerin magicked a small table in between them, complete with a tea tray and several different flavors of the drink. "Tea? No? Well, I must have it at every meal, and in the afternoons as well" she said and she smiled wistfully. "I once found true happiness in a cup of tea, and I've been trying to do so again ever since."

Hermione found herself wondering whether Professor Aerin was like Professor Dumbledore or if it was vice-versa. She came to a slow realisation that neither was like the other, but that elderly witches and wizards were naturally wise and silly, just as young witches and wizards were naturally foolish and stubborn.

"I wish to pursue a Masters in potions, headmistress."

"Potions? You received full marks in all of your classes, Miss Granger, but potions is not your strong point."

Hermione shifted a bit in her seat, finding this much harder to explain to the headmistress than to her other professors, all hoping that she would continue in their subjects. "I know that, Professor."

"Hmm," she said thoughtfully, "if I were advising, I would suggest Transfiguration. I am fully confident that you could be a fully licensed animagus within a year." She took a sip of earl grey and asked, "are you completely certain that this is what you want to do?"

"Oh yes!" Hermione said enthusiastically. "It is a bit difficult to explain, headmistress, but the entire reason I wish to pursue a degree in potions is because it is not my strongest subject." Professor Aerin nodded and motioned for her to continue. "Any other area- I am sorry if this sounds conceited or arrogant- any other area would be altogether too easy for me. I feel as if I have already mastered Ancient Runes, or Charms, or Transfiguration. Potions is the one subject that I feel I can always continue to learn from, even into old age, and I want to work for my mastery, not to ease through it."

Halyna Aerin nodded. "I do not think that this sounded conceited, Miss Granger. I think it sounded brutally honest, which is in the manner that I like to receive most things." The old woman took another sip of tea and frowned slightly at the little china cup, as if the tea had suddenly gone bitter or cold. "Hmmm." She raised a thin eyebrow in confusion. "This is a bit unexpected."

"Headmistress?" Hermione asked, a little disturbed at her professor's sudden inspection of the outside of the china cup, seemingly searching for cracks.

"No, no mistake." The old woman whispered to herself, awed. "Oh-" she replied to Hermione's questioning look, "it's nothing, my dear. I occasionally see some things in the tea cup, that's all."

She took another sip of the no longer strange tea and smiled. "I do believe I was mistaken, my dear. Potions is a wonderful choice. Now," she said, in a falsely stern voice, "I do believe you should be going, you have distracted me from my morning tea for much too long."

As Hermione left, she wondered if Albus Dumbledore was quite as particular about his lemon drops.

Old Mrs. Aerin chuckled to herself. "Well, I didn't know that Miss Granger had a penchant for earl grey. But next time I learn of some unexpected detail in the future," she lectured to her blue flowered china, "I'd much rather it be what Henri is making for dinner."

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Well! I know the first chapter's a little short, but it's introductory.

Additional disclaimer: If you are French or can speak it, please don't sue me. I have no knowledge of the beautiful language (sob) and can thank babelfish for any correct or incorrect grammer.

Maîtresse De Breuvages Magiques: Potions Mistress

Université de Mersailles, France: Mersailles University, France

Ilmarinen: Derived from Finnish _ilma_ "air". Ilmarinen is an immortal smith in Finnish mythology, the creator of the sky and the magic mill known as the Sampo.

Abeni: Means "we asked for her, and behold, we got her" in Yoruba

I would greatly appreciate reviews, constructive criticism, you name it.


	2. Unsettling Similarities

A thank you to Sinful Sakura, Pure Girl, notwritten, GeminiScorp, Miss WittyGirl, and especially Sampdoria for reviewing and giving helpful commentary. So, here the rest of the story is:

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**An Eyrical Tale**

**Chapter 2: Unsettling Similarities**

"I am deeply sorry Miss Granger, but I am afraid I cannot help you," the dark-haired man said as he placed a jar of rat's whiskers carefully into a ready box, "though I am certain that the position of potions mistress will be completely available to you once your mastery is finished." He continued packing a multitude of other ingredients into various boxes, sealing them shut and shrinking them to put in a pocket once they were filled. "Slughorn has agreed to return once again, if only for a year or two, to scope out potential sixth and seventh years for rising fame." He sneered a bit, though not maliciously; his version of a snort of acceptance at odd behaviour. "His house parties will be missed by many people, him especially, and I doubt he will stay away from them longer than necessary."

"Professor Snape, there is no one else available for at least another year," Hermione wheedled, trying to hide her disappointment, "maybe you could-"

"Miss Granger, I will be taking a much deserved holiday to my house in Surrey." He said with a stern look. He had been trying not to treat her as a student, but here she was, almost begging him to be one anyway. "I am quite through with teaching. I only stayed on a few extra years at the insistence of Minerva and…Albus."

Severus's eyes downshifted slightly at this and Hermione understood. Even now that he was…had been…well, his portrait was still requesting some last minute changes and Minerva, reluctant to disagree, had followed through on them and Severus could refuse nothing Dumbledore requested. Not because of a spoken vow, but because of an honour bound one. Hermione suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"I could- I could…It would be a few hours a day sir, and- and I could help with the renovation." This got his attention and he looked back at her from the ingredients shelf he had been traveling back and forth from.

"How did you know the house was damaged?" he replied in almost a whisper.

"Lucky guess, sir. The Prince Manor is in a pureblooded area and," she trailed off, not knowing how to put it, "and I heard that there were fires against the… mudblood supporters."

There was a pause, followed by a, "yes. Although the fire damage was not purposefully done, at least not towards my own manor." Snape said. "The fields surrounding the house helped neighboring fires spread quickly- now the entire…" he trailed off, obviously hurt by something.

After a pause, there came a small, "Yes?"

"That is not important. What is important right now is that you apparate these boxes" he said, handing her a set of previously large boxes that now fit into the palm of his hand, "to the manor. I will be following shortly. You should also return to London to gather the things you will need to stay there for your apprenticeship. Well, what are you waiting for Miss Granger? Get going." The young woman remained silent though it was obvious she was trying to hide her elation. Severus sighed and gave a little half-smirk, something akin to a genuine smile.

"Sir," she finally said, relieved that she could actually continue in potions, "should I walk down to Hogsmeade or-"

"Oh yes," Severus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose- a habit he did often, "I misspoke. Please, make use of the floo."

Hermione made a move to step towards the fire before Severus called out softly, "wait. It- It is the Snape Manor, as of now." He said, preventing her from being flooed to somewhere unpleasant. "I have a wish to rename it again soon, when I decide on something more fitting." She nodded, a bit stiffly, though she met his eyes. Then, she stepped into the fireplace and vanished from sight.

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Hermione found the next weeks at the Snape Manor a bit unsettling, if nothing else. She was actually astonished that he possessed no house elves of any kind, though secretly she was glad of it. He excused their absence as death at mourning their beloved Miss Eileen's marriage to a muggle or their protest when at the master's death the inheritance went to a half-breed. This surprised Hermione as well, but she argued that those were really the same reasons, and he gave a half-hearted smile. It really was a change to see that she and Snape were in the same boat with discriminations. They became somewhat friends after that.

What no house elves meant most of all was that she and Severus Snape were the only people in a large Victorian styled house, with the only neighbors around snotty purebloods who were of the opinion that Voldemort had been a tinge blunt and unrefined, but had the right idea.

So often, the series of events went mostly as follows.

Hermione and Severus were both seated in the library on a rainy afternoon, too wet to go out and too stuffy to stay in, but it was needed. In other words, the epitome of boredom.

Severus was leaning back in a large armchair, while Hermione was reading in another high-backed armchair directly across from his. He broke the silence.

"Tell me of your childhood." It was a strange request, one not expected from this man and she showed it with her silence.

"Forgive me," he sighed. "I am used to giving orders and having them obeyed. Would it please you to tell me of your childhood? I am in need of being entertained, as I have read all of these books too many times to count."

She complied, setting down a book on complex charms. "I was born in Breckland in Norfolk and moved to London when I was nine. I went to Hogwarts-"

"I think I am aware of what happened after the age of eleven, Miss Granger. What was Breckland like?"

"I'm not quite sure," she smiled, "children seem to remember things differently. If I went back now, I'm sure the landscape would be different in places and events would have not happened the way I thought they did."

"Hmm," he said quietly, still in a dull state. "What about school? I am doubtful you could have learned much in the way of muggles before you began at Hogwarts." He was now holding what looked to be a whiskey and she surmised that he must have summoned it silently.

She smiled slyly. "There was a reason I took muggle studies, you know." The smile faded slowly, but she was not angry with him. "I went to the Longwood Institute until I was eleven, and even then I went…some summers." He sensed she was uncomfortable and questioned her about it. She didn't reply, so he asked about the school.

"It was a- a charitable institution."

Severus was shocked, but further intrigued. "You are-"

"Yes." She gave a glare that rivaled one of his, challenging him to make something of it, but he finished his sentence regardless.

"-adopted."

"I lived at Longwood until I was nine, when I moved to London with my parents." She didn't hesitate at the word.

"I never- I never knew." He whispered, sympathy in his eyes.

"No one did." She snorted. "No one does. Except perhaps Dumbledore, he always had a sense for such things."

"Do you mean to tell me that even Potter-"

"Of course not. Brand new to magic, a full-blooded muggleborn at a school for witches and wizards, and I had to be known also as an orphan? No." She closed her eyes, listening to the rain, which she had almost forgotten about. "Harry was an orphan too, but he was the boy who lived, which seemed to balance it out." She groaned lightly, rubbing her temples. "I could use whatever you've got right now."

He summoned an identical glass for her, and floated it across the room to her outstretched hand.

"Longwood was miserable; it still is. I hated it there. The reason I returned later…I had to see what had become of the place." She took a sip of the whiskey. "I've always had too much curiosity for my own good."

Severus was reluctant to interrupt her, as he felt she had a lot to get off her chest, but he needed to ask her some things.

"Why have you told me this?"

"From anyone else I would get pity, but from you," she frowned slightly as she examined his face, "only…familiarity."

There was a long pause that had not come into the conversation yet, but it was required, none-the-less.

"Did you…read much?"

"Only such books that came my way; and they were not very numerous, or very learned."

His next sentence held mixes of awe and rising respect. "You entered school with such knowledge that does not only come from memorization, but is grown and tempered. How did you find it, in such a wretch of a place?"

Hermione smiled grimly and Severus could sense why other people were increasingly annoyed when he did the same. A genuine smile felt so much…happier. "A thirst for freedom also breeds a thirst for something greater. Unfortunately, in Voldemort's case, it turned out to be power."

"That is true." He suddenly felt the old and weighted burden of twenty years lived under such a monster. "Then, am I to take it that your real name is not Granger?"

"Oh- yes, it is. Otherwise the hat would have shouted out something else and I would have been utterly embarrassed. My Hogwarts letter was addressed to Miss H Granger, instead of Rivers, as it should have been." She shifted and took another sip of the drink in her left hand. "My parents are Rivers, you see. Harry and the Weasleys have only met them once and they were too busy to find out anything other then: John and Diana, Hermione's parents."

After a quiet, he said, "Far-fetched as it may seem, Hermione, you are not the only one who has been in such a situation. My own childhood was far from pleasant. I was raised by my mother after my father left her and when I got to Hogwarts I chose Slytherin because it was the house my mother had been in. Although most of the Slytherin children knew of her muggle-loving betrayal and I could not succeed no matter where I tried."

"Life seems to have dealt us quite a hand, Mr. Snape."

"Indeed," he said jokingly, "and what cards have you in your possession?"

"Two jacks and three twos."

"I have the queen of hearts as high card, but have managed to bluff my way through regardless."

"Humph," Hermione snorted, as she raised her glass. "A toast. To forget the past, disregard the future, and live in the present."

Severus Snape raised an eyebrow along with his glass, but complied. "Cheers."

They swigged their drinks down in a hurry and both left each other's company to ponder what had been said.

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I liked that chapter, actually. I am very proud of myself. I am patting myself on the back while eating Easter candy. Oh great, that wasn't a very good idea….that laffy taffy just went down the wrong way………cough cough... please review! 


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